Clockwork Innocence
by caffemacchiato
Summary: Hermione Granger realizes that in order to mend her distorted reality, she will have to rely on Ancient Magicke and her Time Turner to send her back as far as she bids. She wonders just how much of herself she must give up to Time before she can kill him again. Tomione. Dark Hermione.
1. Ch 0: Prologue

my lord galore, working around fanfic doc manager is confusing.

anyways this is my first fic! please enjoy!

 **Prologue.**

* * *

On the island of what used to stand Azkaban, Hermione Granger casts a ferocious spell on an inmate when he doesn't give her what she wants.

" _Give me._ " She snarls. "Give me the blood-bound to your estate _now_ , Lucius."

He spills blood as he opens his twitching mouth to speak. "Mudblood, you will find nothing there. Everything has been burned."

She grabs his tattered shirt and shakes him. "That is not for you to decide, _give me the blood-bound_."

He attempts at a smile and his blood-stained teeth unsettles her.

"What dark Magicke have you been dabbling in, ?" He asks. "Here you are, breaking into the land of what used to be the most feared Azkaban, yet with an army of Dementors at your disposal to do your bidding. Why, I'd say you're a striking resemblance of someone I used to serve _just_ months ago."

She holds her breath.

"Was it the death of Weasley that has gotten you this desperate?"

Her grip on him loosens for a slight second.

"No? Is it Potter?"

She throws him back to his cell and steps on his hand. He lets out a stifled cry.

"Voldemort is _dead_ , Malfoy. Before I'm on my way to torture your wife and son, give me the goddamn, _fucking_ blood bound."

Out of reflex he curls on the ground before her, his other hand reaching for his broken one. The mention of his family triggers him, and he starts to tremble. When she applies more pressure on her foot, he eventually gives in and screams the location of his estate's deed. Whimpering as she takes her foot away, he desperately scurries to the corner of his cell.

"You've made a wise choice, Malfoy. It seems that no matter the filth of your sorry existence, you're good for at least one thing."

He begins to mutter under his breath questions on the whereabouts of his family. Hermione remains silent, simply observing the state of the man before her. She could almost laugh at the irony. The Light had prevailed, of course they did, but the casualties were far too much to bear. Too many of them were too young to fight in the war. Too many had died, including this man's wife and son.

Narcissa and Draco had turned sides at the Battle of Hogwarts when the Phoenix offered them protection, realizing they had helped Harry get away. They were good people, people who still wanted to do good despite being forced to do wrong at the hands of an evil man. It was Lucius who eventually killed them, a moment of insanity brought about by their betrayal they say, and the reason why he was brought to the island in the first place.

"Ms. Granger, you must tell me where they are." He begs. "If not, promise me you will inform them of our cottage in France that will hide them. You are _good_ , right? You _must_ do this for me. Voldemort will find them and _kill_ them, I tell you. You were in the same class as my son, my son Draco, _oh my son Draco_ , always a coward he was _, goddammit he got me into so much trouble for my Lord, goddammit- goddammit- goddammit-_ "

She is suddenly overwhelmed with disgust at the sight of the elder Malfoy. The war had done a number on all of them, but the Wizarding World did not have enough order to deal with the aftermath of the remaining Death Eaters who had survived the war. The hoax of a man they had served under had done nothing but harm, ripped apart their families and identities no amount of magic or healing could fix. And all for what?

The dementors behind Hermione senses her restlessness and begins to approach her in aid. She wipes a frustrating tear from her eye and turns her back on the groveling man.

"You are not even half the man Draco Malfoy was," she spits, gripping her wand tighter. "The coward has always been you."

"Me?" Lucius laughs. "I am not a coward, how dare you even speak to me you _filthy WHORE OF A MUDBLOOD-_ "

"Lucius Malfoy, heir of the Malfoy Family of Wizarding Britain," She shouts over him. He quiets down at his name. "Under the orders of the Ministry of Magic brought upon by myself, Hermione Jean Granger, First Class member of the Order of Phoenix under name of good Dumbledore, I hereby announce your execution for the known murders of Narcissa Malfoy and Draco Malfoy."

The dementors rustle at her command and begin to approach the man in the corner. He cowers immediately and tries to hide. When he realizes there's nowhere else to go, he turns back to Hermione and profusely begins to beg. She looks down at him as the dementors stalk closer.

 _"You sick son of a bitch."_

* * *

The actuality of war is that no one wins. Nothing is gained, but all is lost. Those who are strong move on, and the weak succumb to the war even after the battle has been fought.

Hermione Granger finds herself at the threshold of both the two sides. She has been strong enough to see all but the death of her own life, and soon realizes her indifference to her current reality is not due to desensitisation, but moreso her ability to hyper-compartmentalize. She has indeed accepted her reality, the death of all her friends and family, but she finds her only way of coping is to indulge in delusions that she will somehow find a way to bring them back.

She knows deep down it is a dangerous plan if she's ever heard one, but all that matters is the possibility. The Magicke she can conjure is vast, as well as her resources. If anyone is to be able to change this fucked up reality by defying the laws of the universe, it would be her.

She always had a knack for Time Magicke, anyways.

* * *

The Malfoy Estate is home to many a secret, Ancient Darke Artifacts being of most abundant. Hermione knows most of them, having heard of them from Draco during their time together, but she knows there are more. If not actual objects that could be of use, she could always turn to their vast library of resources to gain more knowledge. With the location and blood-bound granted to her by Lucius' word, she is free to apparate directly on-grounds.

He was right about one thing of course, the Estate had indeed been burned to the ground during the war. It was planted by the Order, followed through by Draco himself. However, Hermione's newly earned Time Magicke could work in numerous ways, and returning an object back to its pristine was a doable task, while rather magically consuming.

Her decision to pursue Time as her dominant plan of action was quite transparent. She was familiar with it enough, after having used it on a daily basis during her Third Year. The Time Turner McGonagall had given her belonged to her, and much like a wand, the magicked object had grown accustomed to both her and her intent of use. It had chosen her, and continues to do her bidding even now. She knows, however, that its abilities are finite, and she soon would have to find an alternative way to hone its Magicke. She had an inkling she would find the answer at the Malfoys.

Hermione sighs as she looks around at the sheer size of the land. It had taken her a full hour to walk around the perimeter once, putting up protective wards and spells.

"Bloody _hell_ , this is going to be a bitch to turn back." She mutters under her breath as she finds her way to the area most magically apparent. She removes her Time Turner from around her neck and places it on a burnt tree stump.

 _"Obiectum Tempus Reditus."_ She clearly enunciates, closing her eyes to concentrate on releasing her magic towards the Turner. She feels the familiar tug of her core pulling herself to the tree, granting it the necessary magical source it needs to do her bidding. It grows stronger by the second, but she holds her ground and continues to focus. It is only when she feels her wards begin to falter that she stumbles to a stop. She opens her eyes and looks around.

The beautiful exterior of the estate was in view.

* * *

It takes Hermione six days to perfectly return the Malfoy Estate to its original state, including all of what was in it at the time it was burned. She falls ill almost immediately afterwards, but persists regardless. The Ancient workings of Time Magicke always has a toll on its user, and despite the capacity of her skills and magic, Hermione knows she needs to work quickly in order to properly execute her plan. It took her six days to bring back the Malfoy Estate, but it takes her just one to find what she needs.

* * *

She finds herself visiting St. Mungo's Hospital often, and today she deems it even more distasteful than usual. The stench of white bleaching the blood engulfs her, and suffocates her. She makes her way through the empty hallway, stopping just short of the door that reads _'Potter'_. She knocks once, then quietly makes her way inside.

The room smells of white, and is as empty as usual.

* * *

The Boy Who Lived only lived until the age of 20, and she had seen him through.

They had gotten separated one day after being ambushed by Death Eaters in the Forest. When she felt her magically charmed pendant burn through her chest, she made haste to kill her pursuers and return to his side.

"Harry! Harry!" She had called out desperately, dizzying herself desperate. Her chest was pounding, her blood rushed to her ears, her entire world had started to spin. When she saw the hallow figure of Voldemort's robes, she immediately vented a curse his way. He smiled at her as he apparated away, and she felt her entire body go cold.

"Harry! No, Harry," She cried as she fell at his side and pulled him tight. "Harry, I'm so sorry, oh _God, Harry, just what has he done to you—_ "

Harry was shaking in her arms, sputtering blood from chattering teeth as he tried to speak. She knew it was from the shock of the dark curse. She had immediately apparated them to the safety of the hospital, but he was losing blood far too quickly for any spell or potion to heal. All she could do was cradle him, crying and kissing his cheeks and forehead. She had never felt like this before, even after the death of Ron, and all she could see was the red of Harry's blood and the green of his eyes, seeing too far past her. She knew that if she hadn't found him, that son of a _bitch_ would have stood as he did, watching Harry bleed to death.

Now she would be the one to have to watch him, instead.

* * *

Harry Potter's last words were words of hope. Hope, and an apology. So she did as he would have wished.

Hermione's method of leading the war had changed in his absence. With the time she had with herself, she had drowned in deriving tactical war strategies. She was able to quickly win back most inhabited land and countryside townships in a matter of weeks. Her allocation of resources and spendings were also very efficient, and it wasn't long before the war, whilst always in their favour, had dramatically began to shift.

And did the death of Voldemort come soon after.

It wasn't as satisfying as a confrontational death would have been, but it was the end of him regardless. It was rather a slow, impending one, and Hermione feels now that it did suffice. A slow deterioration of his health and body as his horcruxes continued to be pursued and destroyed. And in the end, she _did_ do as she wished.

His forged flesh and skin could no longer contain his magicke that he might as well have been dead for months leading up to it. After Hermione had killed Nagini, his last known horcrux after Harry, Voldemort had almost ceased to be, both his soul and body too weak to maintain itself. Hermione didn't have to, he was hardly of man and even a stupefy would have sent him to Hell, but she approached him anyway.

"I knew you would be the one to find me." He had said, his voice grasping for anything corporeal. He was seated in a grandiose of a chair in the midst of the forest. She had been searching for him for 8 months. "How you've really changed, _mudblood_. It should have been _you_ , not Harry Potter, that I needed to kill."

Hermione says nothing as she sees his body flickering, Magicke being the only strength keeping him alive. He held his Elder Wand but rests it at the manchettes of his chair. While it is pointed at her, she knows he can't even conjure a mere Luminus.

"I have underestimated you, I realize that now." He continues. "You have impressed me in the most _fascinating_ ways."

She sees him smile and her heart rapidly begins to pound at her chest.

"Yes," He hisses. "It is so very interesting how a mere mudblood is able to achieve all that you've done. The brightest witch of the age, I hear. My, my, I do believe it now. Had I an entire soul, I would have been most intrigued by your existence."

This was not the Voldemort she wanted to see. She wanted to see him suffering, begging, _desperate_. She had fought and waited far too long for this moment to have it end like this.

She wanted him to beg for forgiveness, to spare his pathetic self of a life, she wanted to _relish_ in being the one able to grant him that. That was the only reason why she incessantly sought for him alone. She didn't want him to go to Azkaban, or be given the Dementor's Kiss. No, Hermione Granger did not have it in her to give him that mercy. She wanted to kill him herself, give him exactly what he deserved.

So she does.

She uses her own magic to to keep him alive, going back each hour and hour to curse him again and again. She had designed and created so many torture spells from Harry's death til now that she knew could break the mind of even the most brilliant, and she smiles as she curses him so. She goes back the hour again to try a different one, the same one, a new one, and a used one.

Again.

Again.

Once more.

 _Again._

Each time, Voldemort's magicke slips even further, and it is only at the tenth hour that he realizes. Perhaps it is the lapse of Time so incessantly used in such a short period that allows him to recall from the previous hour, or perhaps he really is that brilliant. Regardless, Hermione is _pleased_ , and continues to do her wish. He merely chuckles.

"I am _honoured_ to be the recipient of such venomous hatred." He says, his voice barely a faint of a whisper. He is so weak, so weak, but she still cannot afford him the mercy of death. "You really are _quite_ something. I'm curious to what other clever curses you've designed for me. Surely _this_ is not merely enough to satisfy you."

She churns her Time Turner again.

 _Again._

 _Again._

 _Again._

 _Again._

On her 57th turn, she comes back to see the seat empty, his robes, shoes, and the resting Elder Wand the only indications that he was ever there.

Hermione Granger had exhausted Voldemort to death and simultaneously won the war on July 7th, 2000.

She had also created 57 alternate timelines.

* * *

 **HELLO!** My first harry potter fanfic! Thank you so much for reading through this hot **_MESS_** of a chapter with probably hundreds of grammar mistakes asdlfkjasldkf

It's all over the place right now because I understand Hermione in this fic is OOC and I needed to show some of that instead of just plopping her down in the past with my baby and being like hELLO YES TIS MY OTHER BABY, HERMIONE, AND U TWO MAY NOW KISS, u know what im sayigng? slow and steadyyyy (it burnssss though)

I'm actually **really** nervous uploading this entire thing though because it's been over three years since I last wrote anything lol will i even be able to see this fanfic through who knows lol _pls send help._

 _ **anyway PLEASE LET ME KNOW HOW I DID!** _I would really appreciate it and it would help a lot!


	2. Ch 1: Hermione

**Chapter 1: Hermione.**

* * *

Time had only cruelled her.

It had taken from her all that she knew and loved, spitting back unrecognizable dead remains and ruins at her face in mockery. After having used it herself in Third Year, Hermione understood well enough its capabilities - its ability to surpass the Magicke of the user.

She admits that during inconceivable moments of war, she had embarrassingly turned to Time to blame, knowing it exists, of its power, and feeling utterly _betrayed_ by the Magicke she had even been _bonded to_ for a short duration of her life-

But following the death of Harry, all Hermione seemed to have was _Time_.

* * *

After Harry was murdered, Hermione sought to seek more powerful strands of Magicke. Anguish and desperation had caused her to grow in the strangest of ways, expand her mind and Magicke in directions she never deemed possible. She contemplated _truly_ on Dark Magicke. Some were so ambiguous it could hardly be called that, anyways. They were rare, unpredictable, and magically being frank, very capable in times of war.

Yet the persistent calling of Time Magicke had grown to be unbearable. It was truly very strange, that almost ten years after having last used even the slightest inkling of Time, it seemed as if her very Magicke had a sudden nostalgic urge to have it be channeled to turn the golden Time Turner, and only for that purpose.

Hope flooded her as she surmised the calling of her Magicke to Time as a second chance in saving Harry. It had only been a week since he died, it was possible she would be able to go back to protect him. In fact, it would be too simple of a task.

But they had made a promise, the three of them.

An unbreakable vow. They were never to turn back time to change the outcome of one's death if one were to die and the other lived. The risk was too much, they had agreed. Dumbledore had been the one to swear for them.

Thus Hermione concluded her innate calling for Time Magicke to be for something else. Something a lot more than turning back a week's worth of time. Something that so obviously would've demanded the witch her life and more.

The vow they had made was promised years ago, back at Hogwarts, following the death of Cedric Diggory at the Triwizard Tournament. Death after death the war had flooded them, yet the death of Diggory meant much more than she had assumed at the time. She regretted it to this day.

"Hermione, please!" Harry had begged. The tournament was over and the three were back at the Gryffindor tower. "We _have_ to go back to save Cedric. We _have_ to stop Voldemort from coming back!"

He gripped her shoulders so tight Hermione was afraid it would bruise. She bit her lip as she pulled him to a hug, holding him tight in an attempt to calm him.

"Harry," she cried, holding his face close to hers. "Harry, I believe you, I _truly_ do. But I'm so sorry. It's much too dangerous."

"No, Hermione, why?!" He retorted, pushing her away. Ron was immediately by her side, steadying her.

"We've done it before!" He argued. "We saved Sirius last year!"

"Harry _please_ , you _must_ understand the laws of using the Time Turner. It's more complicated than t-"

Her best friend let out a frustrated cry as he lunged forward to roughly snatch the Time Turner across her neck.

"Harry, _**no**_ -!"

It was too late. He placed it hastily around his neck and chained the broken ends together. Her and Ron watched in horror as he churned the golden turner back counter-clockwise.

" _You're_ the one who doesn't understand," he growled. " _Fine,_ I'll fix everything myself-"

The object on him began to glow unfamiliarly bright and _burn_ through his chest as he let out a choke, unable to move. It sparked and flickered with visibly _dark_ strands of magicke and continued to _burn and burn and-_

Hermione quickly pulled out of Ron's arms to grab a hold of the chain, falling on the floor behind her as Harry followed. She cusped her hands around the Turner and tightly grasped onto the Time Turner. She couldn't even feel the brunt of the fall as she just _prayed_ that Harry would be alright, that the magicke would recognize it to only be a mistake, _to please_ just spare his magic the act of meddling with _Time_ -

 _Please, please, please, please you_ _ **can't**_ _take anything away from Harry, please he doesn't even_ _ **know**_ _\- Please, I'm begging you, just take from me instead, please-_

 _ **Please.**_

But the ever-blinding light from the item continued to grow and grow even past her closed hands while the sound of the _goddamn ticking_ and Harry's continuous cries of pain deafened her ears and only got louder with each _goddamn second_ and something inside of _her_ began to _burn and churn_ but she didn't know _what_ and -

 _Tick._

 _Tick._

 _Tick._

.

.

.

* * *

Hermione began to stir at a voice in the distance. Though she tried to formulate conscious thoughts, pain instead seared up her entire body.

She let out a hiss as she barely mustered enough strength to open her eyes.

"Hermione!" Both Harry and Ron yelled simultaneously.

 _The hospital wing._

"What, what happened?" Her voice cracked, and her throat felt like it had been cut a hundred times.

"You've been out for _hours_ , 'Mione." Ron started. "We were so worried." He held her hand tightly but all she could feel was panic.

"T-The Time Turner? Harry, are you okay?" She demanded.

Harry handed to her the familiar item. It looked as it usually did. She let out a sigh of relief.

"Nothing happened, just the backlash of magic." He shamefully responded. "I'm fine. I should've known only you could use it, anyways."

Hermione put a hand to her chest in order to calm her fast-beating heart. She looked around for a clock.

 _6 hours had passed._

The black-haired boy fidgeted nervously in his spot. "Hermione, I am so _, so_ sorry. I don't know what came over me. I just, well, I just assumed that since we were able to save Sirius last term, we would be able to do the same this time."

He eyed the gold in her hand. "I thought there would be a second chance."

Hermione's racing heart began to steadily slow as she put the Time Turner around her neck. The familiarity of the cool weight by her chest dawned on her. She swallowed her worry to turn to her best friend.

"It's not your fault, Harry." She replied softly. "It's natural to think that once you're introduced to the notion of Time."

She looked down at her turner again, then held it up. The gold chains made the lightest of sound.

"But _this_ , this _thing_ that is able to use Time Magicke," She shook it for good measure. "It's _dangerous."_

She could almost _feel_ the _tick_ of her Time Turner resonate through her hand to her chest.

"The reason I was able to use it all last year was because of my _intent_ of use." She tried to explain. "It's not meantto be used to change events of the past."

Hermione suddenly felt it flare up in heat and she grabbed ahold of it tight.

"There are _laws_ for a reason, and I'm not talking the laws of the Ministry. I'm referring to the _laws of Time_. There are repercussions, and an even likelier chance of dying or wiping out our entire timeline."

Harry kept his head down. "I'm really sorry, 'Mione. It won't happen again."

She gave a nod in understanding. "No, I'm sorry, as well. I should've explained this all to you guys sooner. I just thought we've all moved on from it. "

Ron and Harry looked at each other in some sort of mutual agreement.

"'Mione," the ginger started. "Actually, well, Dumbledore came by while you were still in bed and talked to us about this entire thing, basically, about Time, you know, and he, um, well, I don't know if you know but there's this _thing_ within witches and wizards that can be really dangerous if broken but, um, well-"

Hermione's heart stopped for a moment as she realized what Ron was implying.

"The Unbreakable Vow?" She blurted under her breath.

"He wants us to make it." Harry gave a nod. "It's not that he doesn't trust us, it's just that _Time-_ "

"I got it, Harry."

And indeed, Hermione had gotten it. The reason why McGonagall had refused to accept the Time Turner at the end of the semester last year. The reason why she was entrusted with the object to begin with. The reason why Dumbledore had sent her on that rescue mission for Sirius despite the known repercussions.

The weight of its magicke was growing heavier by the second. Hermione could only clutch it tightly in her hand until her magic began to flare.

* * *

It was that night they made the vow in Dumbledore's office. Six hours that were meant to be granted to Harry in order to go back in Time after he turned that Turner, had instead been taken from Hermione.

It was that night she had realized the mission Dumbledore had given her. The meaning behind all his actions regarding Time. She had gone back to her chambers and burst into tears.

It had listened to her.

The Time Turner had _listened_ to her and granted her request.

She could hardly believe it. The reality of Time Turners was that it _would_ turn back time to its wearer. In and by itself, it held incredible magic power, and was meant to last _centuries_ , always being passed from generation to generation, much like Harry's cloak of invisibility. It didn't have an inclination to be picky with who does what. But when that Time Turner had refused to turn back time for Harry, it had only meant one thing.

It wished to do the bidding of another – only one – until it decided by itself that it would move on.

 _Hermione._

She should have been ecstatic. The bond between the user and an object of Time rarely occurred, and any other Magicke and she _would have been_ ecstatic, truly.

But Timewas _dangerous_.

It could do _too_ much, and she was _scared_ of what it could do. Every time she had to turn it counter-clockwise, she was never sure how much Time had really passed. It could be minutes, hours, days, _weeks_ , even. It required an extremely consistent and steady use for it to be predictable.

 _That_ had been the only reason why she had been able to use it last year for academics. She had only used it for an hour each, every time. It had been in small increments, she only attended classes with it, and she abided by the law _precisely_. Her Time Turner did as it was told.

But then Dumbledore gave her the task of saving Sirius. It was _her_ task, not Harry's, because Time would take from _her_ , not Harry.

* * *

Hermione could laugh when she recalled the first incident she had used Time to change the past. It was her first, and at that time she had sworn it would be her last. Her best friend had died only a week ago, after _years_ of battling Voldemort, and all for nothing, really. Because she could have stopped the entire ordeal back when they were in Fourth Year. When Harry had asked her to go back in time to stop Voldemort's revival, to save Cedric Diggory, to save their entire _world_.

The truth of the matter was that she had _lied_ to her friends that night at the Hospital Wing. The Time Turner could be used to do _anything_. Its function was clear: _turn back time_. Whatever the user chose to do with that Time was up to the witch or wizard. The intent didn't matter, only the _outlook_.

The single drawback was that if one were to change the past significantly enough to alter the present, there would be an _exchanging_ of sorts.

 _What Time gives, Time would take._

What it would ask for, _demand,_ in exchange for that Time was solely up to it. The bigger the alteration in the past, the greater its taking from its user. And Hermione had only been _scared_ during Fourth Year. No other reason existed. She had cowered in the face of Time and gave up her best friends', no, the entire wizarding world.

How _truly_ stupid it all seemed now. She should've just _died_ then for altering that past if it meant preventing Voldemort from reviving. She would've now.

She recalled her apt for Fire Magicke – it had been apparent since a young age. Blue fire, in particular, was her signature. She didn't even require a spell to utilize it, had been her very first use of Magicke as an infant, and it only grew stronger with her own capabilities as a witch. It was a form of an Ancient, and she was fortunate enough to have been _born_ with it.

But after meddling with Time - altering the past enough to change the present when she had helped Sirius escape the Dementor's Kiss - she had never once been able to call upon her blue fire again. Time had taken her _magicke - what she had created -_ and she swore she would never once return to it.

What a coward she had been - a self-preserving Slytherin dressed in robes of a Gryffindor. Of all things she was afraid to lose as a _muggleborn_ , it was her _magicke_.

 _How pathetic._

* * *

Locating her Time Turner wasn't as hard of a task, as it still remained at the bottom of her school trunk. It had, however, been more than a decade since she last used it, and it was heavily deprived of flowing Magic for too long. As soon as she touched it, it sparked maliciously in protest as it did to Harry many years prior.

She sighed as she recognized it to be angry. She would have to provide it with as much of her Magicke as possible if she wanted it to work for her again.

She focused on the core of her magic and began to meditate.

She had to work quickly to kill Voldemort.

* * *

 _The Magicke of Time falls under the category of Ancient Neutral Magicke. It is that of most intricate and delicate. Experts claim it to be of quite_ _ **sensitive**_ _magicke, adhering to its user in the purest form of truth._

 _It is eager to please, and acts on its own will in times of desperate need if the bond, and in extension its shared magicke with the wizard, is strong enough. Even the use of the most basic form of this Magicke has shown to take years of persistent training and honing of skills._

 _Its true abilities remain largely unknown._

 _The capacity of this Ancient Magicke depends on the wizard, however it has been noted that not all who wield Time share a bond._

 _Like all other forms of Ancient Magicke, it is adamant, and once an able bond has been instigated shall only be broken at the bidding of the Magicke. A wizard wielding Time while bound shall never be able to embrace another use of Ancient._

 _Users beware that Time has been noted to be of most belligerent, wise enough to sense even the slightest negligence. If it deems the bonded wizard's principles to be less than it, the breaking of that bond will rob the wizard of his magicke and Time. It has been implicated one's Time refers to that of the user's entire existence, and has been the most pressing of reason why the Magicke is of most Ancient yet least known._

 _There is only ever one recorded incident of a wizard utilizing Ancient Time Magicke to travel through time. It is presumed he had done so with the use of Turner of Time whose Magicke had been strongly bonded to him. He is recorded to have been able to do the following:_

 _i. Control Time of objects both Magicke and non-Magicke in small environment_

 _ii. Control Time of own physical body_

 _iii. Travel Time forward in small increments without the Turner_

 _iv. Travel Time backward without the Turner_

… _._

… _._

… _._

* * *

She holds the Time Turner close to her chest, watching the dust of what used to sit Voldemort. The object warms her despite the cold winter weather and she curses. She curses everything and anything.

He had died smiling.

She reaches out to grab ahold of the Elder Wand. In immediate contact, her current wand, Bellatrix's wand, bursts into flames. She watches it flare with gold and red in her hand without burning _her._

Just a few more. A few more and she could begin her _true_ mission.

 _Tick goes her turner. Her beating heart finishes the tock._

* * *

 **A/N:** yIKES they still haven't met. I'm expanding a lot more on Hermione's character and past than I initially intended to. With a lot more dialogue and scenarios. Please let me know if it's too boring, I'll try to speed it up im sorryryryryryry.

I didn't mean to add in the snippet of Harry and Ron but _I REALLY MISS THEM, I MISS THEM A LOT. BUT LET IT BE KNOWN I HAD A DRACO IN IT TOO FOR A MOMENT THAT I HAD TO DELETE BECAUSE IT ENDED UP BEING LIKE 3K WORDS nad i was like o no o no this too much girl._ I might add it in later though.

I _promise_ she gets herself hitting it up with Tom next chapter.

 **HAVE A WONDERFUL HOLIDAY SEASON.** I celebrate Christmas and it is Christmas here in Korea. HAPPY CHRISTMAS.

I would really appreciate any feedback, thank you!

Also thank you to everyone who followed, favourited, and reviewed the last chapter! I'm so, so, **so** happy!


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